


Twice Broken Makes A Whole

by fullmoon_nightowl



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Dark Jensen Ackles, Kidnapping, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 16:03:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17409938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullmoon_nightowl/pseuds/fullmoon_nightowl
Summary: Jensen’s eyes glide up and down his body. “Are you hungry? You must be hungry.”Jared shakes his head. “I want to know why I’m here.”“I’m going to make us some food,” Jensen says as if he hasn’t heard Jared. “Pasta okay?”





	Twice Broken Makes A Whole

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kermiethefrog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kermiethefrog/gifts).



> Written as a pinch-hit for the spn_j2_xmas exchange on livejournal for Chris 9065 / kermiethefrog. Sorry you had to wait so long for your gift! I threw a bunch of your likes together and I hope it’s something you’ll enjoy! Merry belated holidays!  
> Many thanks to ilikaicalie and masja_17 for wonderful betawork!

 

He's pretty. And he's young. Jensen didn't expect either. He's pleased by the first but the second gives an unexpected tug to his heart. Who hurt the kid that badly? He doesn't know. But he wants to find out. He wants to take the kid into his arms, pet his shiny, bowl cut hair and pepper kisses on the upturn of his nose and to his wide, pink lips. Jensen shakes his head, trying to clear his head. He has a goal here, dammit, he needs to focus. And not on the kid’s looks.

The kid’s name is Jared. He usually works the late shift. He lives in a crappy apartment, all by himself, and he doesn’t seem to have many friends.

Jensen keeps watching. He realizes that the kid would be too tall to gather up in his lap and that he's a few years older than Jensen assumed, more early twenties than late teens. It doesn't change any of the sentiment though. He’s still so young. Jensen notes down the times Jared gets off work and decides to go buy the good leather cuffs after all. When Jared pulls the zipper on his jacket closed as he steps outside into the cold winter night, the frayed edges of the sleeves disappearing into the frayed edges of the front pockets, Jensen decides to spoil him rotten. That won’t affect his plan. If anything, it might help. He adds pillows and a cozy blanket to his mental shopping lists and debates whether he should get a new mattress for the bed in the basement. The kid certainly deserves it.

As Jared hurries to his old, beaten up car, the first snowflakes start to fall. Jensen watches him hunch his shoulders and then fold his long, lanky body into the car. Jared’s certainly vulnerable enough but Jensen’s still glad he’s only teaching an online class this semester and doesn’t have to show up on campus because his professors know he’s doing ‘fieldwork.’ Jensen runs through his mental ‘fieldwork’ list again and realizes that after one more shopping trip, there’s only the research trip left before he can really begin.

 

 

 

Jared needs a new job. Seriously, pizza delivery sucks. The pay sucks, the hours suck, and people don’t tip well enough to make up for it. Plus, the brakes of his car are making a dangerous screeching sound. Well, he wanted to leave anyway. He’s got some spare cash that’ll cover repairs and a few nights on the road. Chad texted him that he just got promoted to store manager and that he’ll give Jared a job whenever he wants it. Jared’s not especially keen on working in retail, but he needs money. He’ll call Chad when he gets home.

He doesn’t get to call Chad. When he gets inside his crappy little apartment, he shucks his jacket and shoes, drops his keys into a bowl and walks over to the fridge to get himself a soda. When he closes the fridge, he has a second to think that something is seriously wrong, a sound, a movement, but before he can turn around, a strong arm wraps around his chest and a needle is rammed into his throat.

Jared has a moment to scramble, to try to fight and turn and then his vision starts to swim. Shit. He blacks out without ever seeing his attacker’s face.

 

Jared wakes with a start. He gulps in huge breaths as he tries to figure out where he is and how he got there. Because he’s not in his apartment anymore.

A needle in his neck, strong arms holding him. Jared raises a hand to his neck and feels a small band-aid. His attacker gave him a band-aid for a needle wound? What the fuck is going on?

He looks around in the dim light. He’s in a room without windows. The only source of light is an old ugly beige floor lamp in the corner. A basement maybe? He’s sitting in a queen size bed with blankets and pillows. In one corner of the room, just a few steps away, is an open bathroom unit: toilet, sink, and shower. To the other side of the bed, there’s a television. Across the room, a cupboard and a staircase leading upwards. Could it be so easy?

Jared starts to get up and a chain rattles. He throws the blanket back and stares down at his right ankle, ringed by a thick, dark leather cuff that’s attached to a chain. Oh no. Frantically, Jared dives for the chain, traces it with shaking hands to a hook in the floor. He pulls at it, but it’s encased in the concrete. So he yanks at the cuff, but it’s locked, not too tight, and maybe, if he breaks his ankle, he can slide it off, maybe—he looks around for tools until he realizes that he’s honestly debating cutting his foot off when he doesn't even know why he’s here and what his captor has planned for him. His heart is beating in a wild staccato and Jared can’t see clearly. He needs to calm down.

He sits down on the cold floor next to the bed, crosses his legs and focuses on his breathing. He’s only discovered a few years ago how much yoga calms and centers him, so now he puts his hands on his knees and just breathes. When his frantic heart has slowed down, he changes into the child’s pose. He breathes, in and out, until he’s calm enough to think again. Panic won’t help him.

Slowly, he gets up and investigates the room. The chain is fairly short. He can comfortably reach the bathroom unit and the TV but he doesn’t even make it to the bottom of the stairs. There’s nothing he could use as a weapon. He has shampoo and soap, but no razor. The toothbrush might be an option, if he has enough time. Jared hopes he has enough time.

Whoever has taken him, has thought out his prison, has designed it to be fairly comfortable. That means he wants Jared around for a while, right? Which… Jared stops. There aren’t a lot of things people are kidnapped for. Jared is still wearing all his clothes, but that doesn’t have to mean anything.

Jared’s whole body starts to shake and he stalks back to the bed and buries under the covers. He can deal with a lot, he knows he can, but not that. Not again.

He burrows deep under the blankets and hopes the guy just wants to kill him.

 

He doesn’t know how much time passes until the door at the top of the stairs opens. Warm yellow light spills down the staircase. Jared sits up straight, eyes glued to the stairs.

Socked feet, blue jeans, strong legs with thick thighs, a dark sweater, sleeves rolled up to reveal toned forearms, broad shoulders. When the guy’s face comes into view, Jared’s surprised by how… beautiful it is. He doesn't know what he expected and it’s stupid to be surprised—Bundy was very handsome—but Jared’s still taken aback for a moment.

His captor has strong features but his eyes are big and his lips are soft. When his eyes meet Jared’s, he gives him a tentative smile causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle. He’s a few years older than Jared, probably in his late twenties, and he moves graceful and sure.

“Hey, Jared.” His voice is smooth and deep.

Jared’s heart starts its nervous staccato again. “How do you know my name?”

It’s a stupid question really, considering that the guy kidnapped him, but getting such a personal greeting…

The guy smiles softly. “I know a lot about you.”

Jared swallows. “Why am I here? What do you want with me?”

The guy steps down the stairs and puts down a water bottle. “I thought you might be thirsty.”

And Jared is. Suddenly, he’s aware of the dryness in his mouth and he’s half out of the bed before he stops himself.

The guy motions for the bottle and steps back. “Go on. Take it.”

Never taking his eyes off the guy, Jared walks forward. The chain on his foot stops him just before he reaches the bottle and he needs to lean forward to pick it up.

Greedily, he gulps down half the contents before focuses back on his kidnapper. “Who are you?” he asks since the guy didn’t answer his other questions.

“I’m Jensen.”

“Where am I?”

“My house.”

“Why?”

Jensen’s eyes glide up and down his body. “Are you hungry? You must be hungry.”

Jared shakes his head. “I want to know why I’m here.”

“I’m going to make us some food,” Jensen says as if he hasn’t heard Jared. “Pasta okay?”

“Tell me why I’m here!” Jared shouts but Jensen doesn’t even flinch. He just nods his head, as if Jared just confirmed a suspicion.

“Food,” Jensen says. “Everything looks better with a full stomach.” With that, he turns around and leaves Jared alone in the basement.

 

The pasta tastes great. Jared considered throwing it at Jensen but he needs information. And he needs his strength. And Jensen was right, he’s starving.

Jensen is sitting on the bottom of the stairs, eating his own serving, while Jared snarfs his food down on the bed.

“It’s late,” Jensen says when the plates are empty. “You should get some sleep.”

“Why?”

“You must be tired.”

“Please,” Jared says, switching tracks. He gives Jensen a pleading look. “Please, just tell me. Why did you take me?”

Jensen’s expression softens. “The world is a dangerous place.”

“I can look after myself.”

Jensen shakes his head. “Oh, Jared.” Then he walks up the stairs. “Sleep well.”

“Wait! Don’t leave me, please!”

But the door closes.

Exhausted, Jared falls down on the bed. He’s been kidnapped by a lunatic. The world is a dangerous place? What does that even mean? Does the guy just walk around and kidnap poor pizza delivery guys? Did he pick Jared on purpose? But it can’t be. Jared wonders if he ever delivered a pizza to Jensen but discards the idea quickly. He’d remember a face as hot as Jensen’s.

Maybe Jensen lost a brother? Or a son? Though he looks a little young to be the dad of a teenager. But maybe Jared’s replacing someone? A relative? A childhood friend?

And what will he do with Jared? Keep him down here forever? Give him a mercy death?

The not knowing is driving Jared crazy. He’ll have to find a way to get it out of Jensen. And he’ll have to find a way out of here. But when he lies down on the bed, he realizes that Jensen was right, he is tired.

Jared doesn’t think he can sleep, not with all of his questions whirring around his mind in a panicked haze but he’s out before he can finish the thought.

 

“I brought you some new clothes,” Jensen says the next morning.

Jared blinks awake, entirely disoriented.

“They should fit, but if they don’t, let me know.”

Jared sits up and it all comes back. The needle, waking up in Jensen’s basement. Jensen, the beautiful, mysterious lunatic.

“Why?” Jared croaks out.

“Why?” Jensen repeats. “Because you can’t wear the same clothes every day.”

“No, I want to know why I’m here.”

“I told you, the world is a dangerous place.”

“But then why me?”

“Breakfast?” Jensen asks.

Jared stares, aghast.

“Breakfast,” Jensen says with a smile.

“I don’t want fucking breakfast,” Jared explodes. “I want to know why the fuck I’m here and what you want with me! You can’t keep me here! I don’t want to be here, okay?” Jared’s chest is heaving and Jensen is still infuriatingly calm. “I can protect myself, I don’t need you to protect me, okay?”

“Protection?” Jensen’s eyebrows raise at a sharp angle. “Who said anything about protection?”

“You! You said the world is a dangerous place!”

Jensen’s eyebrow lifts up another millimeter.

Jared deflates. “But…”

“I don’t appreciate your tone,” Jensen says, and for the first time, his voice is sharp. “You are my guest and I expect you to behave accordingly.”

“But I don’t want to be your guest!”

Jensen’s face hardens. He turns and leaves without another word.

Jared doesn’t get breakfast.

Jared is fairly certain he also skips lunch but without a watch and natural light, there’s no way to tell the time. It’s driving him crazy.

He drinks water out of the tap to fill his stomach but it doesn’t stop growling. He hopes Jensen will be back soon. And he’ll be polite. Jensen taught him a lesson and Jared understands. He’s always been quick with learning the unspoken rules. And right now, Jensen has all the power, and Jared has none. So he’ll learn.

Eventually, Jensen brings him a plate with leftover lukewarm pasta. Jared thanks him for it but Jensen doesn’t reply.

Jared goes to bed, stomach filled with pasta, and head with worries.

 

Jared has to tear off his pants and underpants because there’s no way to get them off with the chain. Jensen has brought him shirts and hoodies, and those sweatpants with the buttons at the side. Jared didn’t know they still made those. They’re not great but it’s better than being naked.

Days pass. Jared tries to talk to Jensen again, tries to ask pleadingly, politely. Jensen doesn’t reply.

Breakfast turns out to be toast, yogurt, and fruit, and lunch is sandwiches. Sometimes, Jensen brings them during the day, sometimes he brings them with breakfast because he’s going to be out during the day. Jared tries to establish a pattern, but there is none. If Jensen has a job, he doesn’t work regular hours.

Jared walks the tiny space of his prison. He does situps and pushups out of boredom. He does yoga to calm himself. He turns on the TV to drown out the silence.

His nightmares get worse. He can tell, by the way his jaw hurts in the morning and how his sleep shirt clings sweat-damp to his skin.

After a week, Jensen takes his dirty clothes upstairs and washes them.

“Thank you,” Jared says.

“You’re welcome.” Instead of leaving, Jensen hesitates. “Is there anything that helps?”

“With what?”

“The nightmares.”

“Are you watching me?”

Jensen shakes his head. “I can hear you scream.”

“Oh.” Jared looks down at his hands twisted into the blanket. “No. Nothing helps.”

“He can’t hurt you here,” Jensen says softly.

Jared shoots him a half smile. Only when Jensen has left, does Jared realize Jensen said “he.” He wonders whether Jensen knows or whether it was a lucky guess. Is that why he took him?

 

The next morning, Jensen brings Jared breakfast and lunch. Jared knows Jensen will be in a hurry to leave, so he waits.

When Jensen returns with dinner—a disgusting mushroom potato stew—Jared tries again. He clutches the bowl tightly and gives Jensen his most desperate expression.

“The nightmares get worse when I’m stressed. Or scared.”

Jensen’s expression is pained like he feels bad about it. “I’m sorry.”

“Please tell me if I need to be scared.”

Jensen’s eyes roam over Jared’s body, then settle on his mouth. Jensen looks like he’s caught in a trance. Then shakes his head like a wet dog shakes his body. “I didn't think you'd be pretty. I had… I had a plan, in the beginning. But then I saw you and you're just… So pretty.”

Oh no. Jared’s stomach drops and his hands start to shake.

“I wasn't planning on acting on it,” Jensen says casually with a throwaway hand gesture. And Jared gets really panicked by his use of the past tense.

“I'm not that kind of guy. A rapist.” Jensen adds.

Jared recoils, stumbles back until his legs hit the bed. No.

“I'm still not,” Jensen hurries to say and Jared guesses his smile is supposed to be soothing. “But when I saw you walking into a gay bar... “ Jensen shrugs, gives Jared a sheepish smile. “I couldn't help but hope.”

“Hope?” Jared croaks out.

Jensen rubs the back of his neck. “Well, it kind of seemed like fate. We’ll see, I guess.”

They wouldn’t see _anything_. But Jared doesn’t say that. Instead, he says, “I still don't know why you kidnapped me.”

Jensen gives him a sheepish smile. “I promise, I’ll tell you. But not yet. Eat.”

Jensen leaves. Jared is alone again.

Fate. Not a rapist. Jared shudders. Every stalker thinks the object of their obsession is destined for them.

Slowly, he eats the stew. Jensen gets angry when he doesn’t finish the plate. Jared thinks he’s actually putting on weight. Granted, he was always on the skinny side but now… Jensen is feeding him well. Almost like he’s fattening him up. Like Hansel and Gretel.

Jared can’t keep in the hysterical laughter that bubbles out of him. Oh god. Of all the things… what if Jensen wants to eat him? Jared laughs and laughs until tears roll down his cheeks. Jared knows he’s losing it, but after everything he’s been through, he would end up as cannibal chow.

 

“Why are you punishing me?”

Jensen brought down two plates of vegetable lasagna, and he’s sitting at the bottom of the stairs, eating together with Jared. He’s always a little more chatty when he eats with Jared, and Jared hasn’t asked about his captivity in a few days. But he can’t just give up.

Jensen’s eyebrows shoot up. “I’m not punishing you.”

“Yes, you are,” Jared tries to keep his voice soft pleading.

Jensen shakes his head. “I’m not. Or do you see me using my belt?” He stands and walks to the cupboard. Slowly, he opens a door and reveals a row of tools. “Or the plier? Or the hammer?” He points to the rack with tools at the far end and Jared pales. Bloody visions fill his head, of broken bones and lost limbs.

“So you see,” Jensen says with a soothing smile. “I’m not punishing you.”

“Then why am I here?”

“Well, you can’t be out there.” Jensen shakes his head. “The world is a dangerous place.”

“But you said you’re not protecting me.”

Jensen cocks his head. “Your father—”

Jared recoils. “How do you know?”

Jensen smiles, but it’s sad, bitter. “Takes one to know one.”

“But then why…” Helplessly, Jared raises his shackled foot.

Jensen sighs. “I don’t want to. But you'd run away. And you can’t, not yet. Just a little patience, Jared.”

Jared lets his head thunk back against the wall. Fucking lunatic. But Jensen’s words don’t leave him alone. _Takes one to know one._

 

“How do you know about my father?”

Jensen’s expression softens. “We don’t have to talk about him.”

“But I want to know how you know.”

Jensen sighs. “People talk to me. They tell me things.” Jensen smiles harmlessly. The charm is almost blinding. “People trust me. And there are certain records, school, hospital, if you know how to read between the lines, if you know what you’re looking for, it’s easy.” Jensen’s face hardens. “Most people look away. I don’t.”

Jared still doesn’t understand, but Jensen seems intent on remaining cryptic.

“What about your—”

“I hope you like peanut butter.” Jensen smiles brightly. “I got us some candy.”

Jared knows a distraction when he sees one, but he takes the Reese’s anyway. Halloween was always his favorite holiday.

 

Jared wonders if Jensen will ever talk about his father, but he doesn’t. He keeps bringing Jared food. They chat about inconsequential things. Sometimes, Jensen will comment on whatever Jared is watching. It’s easy. Sometimes, it’s so normal that Jared forgets for a few moments that there’s a chain around his ankle.

 

Morosely, Jared stares at the mushroom pasta.

“What?” Jensen asks.

“I really hate mushrooms.” Jared flinches, he didn’t mean to say that out loud.

But instead of berating him, Jensen laughs. It makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. At Jard’s confused expression, he just grins. “I have never in my life heard someone speak so negatively about mushrooms.”

“Then you weren't listening. Mushrooms are super gross, I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

Jensen’s still smiling. “Fine. No more mushrooms.”

When Jensen’s about to leave, he hesitates. “So what do you like? To eat, I mean?”

Jared shrugs. “Asian food. Curries. Pasta with meatballs. Mac and cheese.”

Jensen purses his lips. “Okay.”

He leaves and it feels like progress.

 

“I feel like it’s only fair that I get to know your secret when you know mine,” Jared says when Jensen brings him dinner. It feels like a dinner conversation, rather than a breakfast conversation, even though the light in the basement never changes. And Jensen brought Mac and Cheese. That has to be a good sign.

“You know my secret,” Jensen says with a self-deprecating twist to his mouth, “I kidnapped you.”

Jared shakes his head. “You know about my father. I don’t know about yours.”

Jensen stills.

“It’s only fair.” Jared’s not above trying to guilt trip Jensen. And it works.

With a sigh, Jensen sits down a the bottom of the stairs. “He’s a dentist. After my mom left him, he… he blamed me. I tried to be a good son, to bring home good grades, not get in trouble, but it was never good enough. He always saw something nefarious going on. And he punished me for it.”

“What did he do?”

“He’s a dentist,” Jensen says as if that explains it.

He must see the confusion on Jared’s face, so he stands. He takes off his shirt. For a moment, Jared’s thrown off kilter by Jensen’s broad and muscular shoulders, his flat chest, and belly with a hint of softness to it. His skin is pale and when he comes closer Jared can see the freckles dusting his arms and shoulders.

Slowly, Jensen sits down next to Jared and in the light Jared finally sees what Jensen wants to show him. First, he thinks they’re freckles too but they’re too light. Tiny pale dots, littering Jensen’s shoulders and back.

“He’s a dentist,” Jensen says. “And he keeps a toolkit at home.”

Jared’s never been afraid of the dentist, but he never liked going either. No one likes going to the dentist. But this… Jared reaches out and runs a hand over Jensen’s skin. Most of the scars are too old and faded but some are bigger, tiny bumps he can feel under his fingertips.

“What did you do?” Jared asks.

“I moved out.”

Jared looks up in surprise.

Jensen rubs his arms, then stands and gets dressed again. “What?”

“I thought…”

“You thought I had all the answers,” Jensen says bitterly. “Yeah, well, I don’t.”

“No one does,” Jared says quietly, and thinks of his father, still living in their shitty old house that Jared hasn’t been back to since he fled the day after he turned eighteen.

“You’re safe here,” Jensen says again.

It’s true. But it’s not enough.

 

Two days later, Jensen brings Chinese take out. Jared wolves down the fried noodles. It’s delicious. They share the fortune cookies and Jensen stays to watch an episode of Chopped with Jared.

Jared does his yoga routine and goes to bed. He wakes up a few hours later because his stomach is churning. He makes it to the toilet just in time.

Jared hates throwing up. But the food must have been seriously bad because as soon as he’s back in bed, he’s nauseous again. He rushes back to the toilet, almost stumbles over the chain, and spends the next five minutes miserably hugging the toilet bowl.

A hand strokes his hair and Jared jumps.

“Sshh,” Jensen says, “it’s me. Here, wash your mouth.”

He hands Jared a cup and he takes it, washing his mouth but not swallowing.

“How are you feeling?” Jensen asks.

“Like crap. How about you?”

“Nothing,” Jensen says. “Must have been the noodles.”

“Lucky bastard,” Jared grumbles.

“C’mon on, let’s get you to bed.”

“I might throw up again,” Jared warns.

“I’ll get you a bucket.”

Tiredly, Jared leans into Jensen’s warm body. Only when he’s back in bed and Jensen lets go, does he realize how touch starved he’s been. Because, irrationally, he wants Jensen to touch him again.

Jensen brings him a bucket, and Jared promptly throws up again. Jensen stays and rubs his back. And if Jared takes longer to sit back up, there’s no one to judge him for it.

Jared feels like crap for two days and Jensen plays nurse. So concerned, Jared almost thinks he’s got a doting boyfriend. He gets tea and crackers, Jensen wipes his sweaty forehead with a wet cloth and feeds him soup. Jared tells him that his go-to comfort movie as a kid was Aladdin and the next day, Jensen brings him a DVD player and the movie. They watch it together on Jared’s bed and Jensen petting his hair seems like the most natural thing.

When Jared emerges from the haze of sickness, he thinks he should probably have knocked Jensen out but he doesn't know where Jensen keeps the key. It’s probably upstairs, so Jared would gain nothing. But Jensen really seems to like him, maybe Jared can work that to his advantage.

And if he’s being honest with himself, he likes Jensen too. Jared knows he’s the bad guy, the guy who took his freedom but he’s also… nice? He brings Jared chocolate, sometimes, and he always lets him pick the channel they watch when they eat. It's been a long time since anyone was this kind to Jared.

 

Jensen has taken to sitting on the bed next to Jared when they eat. Now that they have a DVD player, Jared keeps asking for movies and Jensen keeps bringing them. One night, they’re watching Beauty and the Beast. Jared thinks it fits. He’s not beautiful and Jensen is no beast—he’s certainly more handsome than the prince at the end—but it still fits. It’s dark and twisted and wrong, but it’s also right.

When Belle and the Beast dance, Jared leans into Jensen and rests his head on his shoulder. Jensen tenses, but doesn’t push him away. When the Beast lets Belle go, Jared presses a quick kiss to Jensen’s cheek. Jared hopes for joy or lust but when Jensen looks at him, his face is twisted in anger.

Jared recoils back on the bed.

Jensen glares. “I know what you’re doing. Stop pretending!”

“I’m not—”

“Yes, you are!”

Jared flinches, waits for the inevitable violence because it has to happen sometime, but Jensen just deflates and his expression turns sad. “You don’t have to play whore, Jared, and you don’t have to be scared, either. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I’m not—I wasn’t—” Jared rubs his hands over his face. “What am I doing here?” Jared asks desperately. “What do you want with me? Because I don’t think you’ll hurt me but I’m also still shackled to the bed, so I don’t know what to think!”

Jensen hesitates. Jared makes puppy dog eyes.

Jensen narrows his eyes. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Jensen, please.”

And Jensen breaks. “I know what you did, Jared.”

Jared freezes. “What?”

“I know. What you did.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Yes, you did.”

Wildly, Jared shakes his head. “Whatever you think I did, it's not—”

“Oh but I don't think, I know,” Jensen says and his expression sobers. “You killed my neighbor.”

The world comes to a screeching halt. “What?”

“Andrew,” Jensen says calmly. “Married to a wonderful wife. Father of a beautiful daughter. Respected teacher.”

Jared gapes. Jensen leaves. Well shit.

That Jensen would know his deepest darkest secret, Jared hadn’t thought possible. In the beginning, sure, it had crossed his mind. But Jensen has been nice. Treated him well. If he knows… What is Jensen doing? Is this punishment? This cozy basement with a DVD supply and candy after every meal? Or does he want to heal him? Change him? Jared doesn’t know what to think.

 

Jensen returns the next morning with breakfast. Pancakes with raspberries. Jared’s favorite. Is everything just upside down?

“Are you punishing me?” Jared asks. “For what I did?”

“No, Jared.” Jensen hesitates, then comes over to the bed and sits down. “In fact, I admire your work.”

Jared can only stare.

“I knew what Andrew did to his daughter. And I couldn't stop him. But you... You saw it, once, when you delivered pizza, and you decided to save her from him.” Jensen’s face is glowing in admiration. “You gave that monster what he deserved when even her own mother wouldn’t help. You saved her.” Jensen pulls a face. “Not that anyone else would see it that way. You’re lucky the cops didn’t make the connection I did.”

Jared swallows. He knows it was a risk to kill someone he’d delivered pizza too. But when he saw the girl’s scared face, and her father’s slimy smile when he’d turned to her and said how fortunate they were that mom wasn’t home tonight… Jared had to kill him. He just had to.

And Jensen knows. And Jensen agrees.

“I know this was not—” Jensen waves his hand as if to encompass their whole situation, “but I didn’t know you. I didn’t know the kind of person you’d be. I just wanted… but you.”

His green eyes are fixed on Jared with so much love and adoration, it takes Jared’s breath away. No one has ever looked at him like that. It makes his head swim. Jensen knows him, really knows him and he’s looking at him like _that_.

“You're really…” Jensen leans in as if he can't help himself. Neither can Jared. He should punch Jensen, make him pay for kidnapping him but when Jensen's full lips press against his own, he opens with a sharp intake of breath. Jensen's hands slide into his hair, grip tight and Jared moans from the sting.

Jensen tears himself away. “I'm sorry.” He’s breathing quickly, his broad chest rising under his dark t-shirt. “I'm so sorry. I don't…” He rubs a hand over his anguished expression. “I shouldn't have done that.”

Jared’s lips keep tingling, long after Jensen has fled the basement.

 

“Jensen, wait.”

Jensen brought breakfast and immediately started back up the stairs again. Now he stops. Slowly turns his head. There are lines around his mouth and his shoulders are tense.

“What’s wrong?” Jared asks.

Jensen shakes his head. “I shouldn’t take advantage of you. Not like that. Never like that.” Jensen’s voice is hoarse. “I never wanted to be like that. I’m so sorry, Jared.”

He leaves before Jared can get another word in.

In silence, Jared eats his toast. The crunching is loud in the empty basement.

Jared still remembers the big hands on his bony shoulders. The slurred voice, the sharp whiskey breath fanning over his neck. The stink of sweat and urine, the foul taste that made him gag.

Jensen’s not like that. Because Jensen regrets. Jared’s father never had regrets. Jensen is in anguish over a kiss. Jared’s father, he ignored it, pretended those dark hours in the night never happened. When Jared had finally confronted him, he’d raged and screamed, blamed Jared and his slutty mouth. Jensen’s not like that. Jensen is broken, just like Jared.

Jensen remains distant. So Jared doesn’t bring it up again. Jensen dances around him, treats him like a raw egg and Jared tries not to make any sudden movements.

“There’s a new episode of audience pick on Chopped tonight,” Jared says when Jensen brings him lunch. “Watch it with me?”

Jensen hesitates, but nods. Jared smiles.

Jensen brings Chinese—from a different place, he’d swore never to order from the first one again—and sits at the very foot of Jared’s bed, as far away as he can.

They eat and marvel at the cruelty of the Chopped audience. The Instagram crowd is clearly the worst.

“You’re not like him,” Jared says when the show is over.

Jensen’s head whips around and his eyes grow wide.

“You’re a good man,” Jared says with conviction. “You care. You’re kind. Misguided?” Jared pulls up his leg, rattles the chain. “Yeah. But you have a good heart.” Jared leans forward and presses his index finger to Jensen’s chest. “In here, you’re good. My father is rotten to his core.”

Jensen swallows. “How? How do you do it? After all that happened to you?”

Jared smiles, grimly. “I took revenge.”

“But your father is still alive.” Jensen’s voice is quiet, careful

A tight band constricts Jared’s chest. He pulls up his legs tighter, hugs them to his body. “I wanted, but… I can be strong, when I’m far away.”

Jensen’s hand wraps around Jared’s, squeezes it. “You can always be strong.”

Jared looks up. Something flutters in his chest. “Is that why you brought me here?”

Jensen licks his lips, then pulls back. “I want to say yes, but I’m not as good as you think I am.” Jensen gets up, starts pacing. There’s so much tension in his body, it’s painful to watch.

“My father,” he says, then stops. “I saw you kill my neighbor. I investigated. I realized you’d killed others.” He shoots Jared a reproachful look. “You really have to be more careful, if the police had any eyewitnesses… Anyway. I thought… I thought you could help me. I brought you here to see if I could force you to help me. But I can’t—I can’t do that anymore.” He stalks back to the bed, goes to his knees before Jared. “I’m so sorry. For everything, I thought—I thought you’d be a killer, I thought you’d be vengeance and violence, I didn’t think you’d be a person.”

Jensen reaches for Jared’s hand again and in a trance, Jared takes it and interlaces their fingers. “I was so stupid, Jared.” Jensen’s eyes shine in the dim basement light, tears swimming in front of his green irises. “You’re a person, a wonderful, beautiful, bright person. Even your father couldn’t take that away. You’re strong and fearless and smart and you have terrible taste in food, but every time I come down here, my heart feels lighter.”

Jensen blinks, shakes his head. “I’m so sorry, Jared. Can you ever forgive me?”

Now it’s Jared’s turn to blink. He can’t believe it. He’s not… bright. He’s pain and sorrow and misery, Jensen has no idea. But if he means it…

“Do you mean it?”

Jensen stands and nods, then he hurries to the stairs.

“Jensen!”

But Jensen’s already sprinting up the stairs, taking two at a time. Jared’s still sitting on the bed, hands clenching in the sheets and heart beating loudly when Jensen returns, cheeks flushed and holding a key in his hand.

He kneels at the end of the bed, almost reverently wraps his hands around Jared’s ankle and unlocks the chain.

Jared stares. “What if I kill you?”

Jensen looks at him as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. Then he gives Jared a sheepish smile. “I guess I would deserve that. I just hope that one day, you can forgive me.”

Jared stares at the open chain, then at Jensen, still sitting at the foot of the bed. He seems smaller, like the night he told Jared about his father.

Jared stands, then slowly walks towards the stairs. Jensen looks after him, shoulders hunched and eyes dull.

“There’s some cash on the sideboard by the door and your clothes are upstairs in my closet. I’m sorry.”

Jared walks up the stairs. Jensen doesn’t follow.

It’s surreal, taking steps without the rattle of the chain. He’s been in Jensen’s basement for little over a month, but it feels both shorter and like an eternity at the same time. Like it could have been forever.

Slowly, Jared walks though Jensen’s house. It’s small and tidy. The furniture is mismatched and sparse. Jared drags his hand over chairs and tables, along cupboards and the occasional nature print on the wall. He goes into Jensen's bedroom and finds his clothes in the closet. He steps into his pants, pulls on his shirt and hoodie. Still no sign of Jensen.

Jensen’s bed is casually made, not wrinkle-free but Jensen clearly took a few seconds to puff up the pillow and shake out the sheet.

Slowly, Jared lies down. The bed smells of Jensen. His aftershave, the faint residue of hair gel on the pillow. And Jensen’s own scent, sweat and skin, warmth and comfort.

Floorboards creak and Jared looks up. Jensen’s standing in the doorframe.

Jared gets up and walks over to him. He never realized how much taller he is than Jensen. Jensen always seemed so tall, so solid. Now he tilts his head up in question.

“Jared?” His voice is strong, warm.

“Give me your father’s address.”

 

Jensen tells him a hundred times he doesn’t have to do it. Apologizes a hundred more times. Jared ignores it.

Jensen’s father is a dentist. Doctor Ackles is a calm, put together man. No alcohol, no drugs. A respected member of the community. He lives in a nice house in the suburbs, drives a nice car, keeps a clean yard.

Jared ties him up in his basement. Doctor Ackles pleads and bargains. He offers money and threatens with the authorities. Jared finds the set of dentist tools where Jensen said they would be.

Jared picks out one of those slim metal pokey things, with the curved pointy tip that you use to get the tartar off the teeth.

“Jensen said this one is your favorite.”

Doctor Ackles’s eyes widen. “Look, I don’t know what my son told you, but he is a very disturbed individual. He’s an accomplished liar, and he manipulates everyone around him.”

Jared raises the tool and softly taps it against Doctor Ackles’s cheek. “I’ve seen the scars.”

Doctor Ackles swallows. “I tried to control him. I admit, it might not have been the best method, but Jensen is evil.”

Jared rams the tool into Doctor Ackles’s cheek. “Jensen is good and pure! He’s kind and caring and you tortured him!”

Doctor Ackles pants but still gives Jared a hard look. “My son is a monster, and he is using you.”

Jared shakes his head. “There’s only one monster here.” He reaches for the pliers. “And you will pay for what you did.”

 

 

 

Jensen cleans the house. He goes shopping. He paces the empty rooms, ends up in the basement. Did he make the right choice? He thought he did. But with every minute that goes by, the doubts grow. The pile of DVDs sits next to the TV. Aladdin, Lilo and Stitch, Tangled, the Lion King, all of Disney’s orphans to give Jared comfort when he grew up alone with a monster.

Jensen reaches for a DVD and puts it into the player.

He’s watching Aladdin when he hears the basement door open.

Jensen turns his head towards the stairs and he doesn’t try to hide his surprise. Letting Jared go had been a gamble. He’d planned on a much firmer hand, but Jared had taken to him like a dried plant to rainfall, so desperate for love and affection. Jensen had pushed him, with treats and comfort after hurt, and Jared had soaked it all up. Jensen had thrown half his plan out and made it up as he went along and it couldn’t have worked out better. The Chinese food in particular was a stroke of genius.

“I thought you might want to know how it went.” Jared’s standing tall, his face expressionless. Jensen’s not sure how this is going to go. There’s no precedent here, and Jared has surprised him at every turn.

Carefully, Jensen shakes his head. “Just… is it over?”

Jared nods. “It’s over.”

There’s something in Jared’s eyes, in the way they flit over Jensen, as if they’re searching for something. Jared came back looking for something. And Jensen’s pretty sure he knows what it is. Another unexpected tug to his heart. This kid.

Shakily, Jensen stands. He walks over to Jared, doesn’t stop until they’re chest to chest, until his arms are wrapped round Jared and his mouth is pressed to Jared’s lips. Jared leans into it, but Jensen already pulls back.

“Sorry. I’m so—”

Jared shuts him up with a kiss. “Stop. Don’t apologize. Just take me to bed.”

Jensen traces his face, carefully, as if Jared’s made out of glass. “Are you sure? I need you to be sure.”

Jared leans down, rests his forehead against Jensen’s, shares the air he breathes. “For a long time, I made myself feel better by helping others. I fought their fights, so I didn’t have to fight my own. But I want to. But I can’t… I can’t do it alone.”

Jensen tightens his hands, pulls him down the last inch. “You’re not alone anymore.”

Jensen has never been kissed like that before. Jared’s insistent and greedy, opens up, vulnerable and insecure. Jensen takes the lead, but draws back to give Jared space, follows along where Jared’s fumbling and desperate, steadies him when he shakes, encourages him when he falters.

He leads Jared up the stairs, to his bed, and gently undresses Jared. Jared’s hands are quick and greedy in return and Jensen lets him. Lets Jared tear his clothes off, lets Jared push him back on the bed and climb into his lap. Jared traces Jensen’s scars again, and Jensen runs his hands over Jared’s unblemished skin in return, the invisible scars, the long-faded bruises Jensen knows have been there.

“Where?” Jensen asks and Jared understands.

Shakily, he points his fingers, and Jensen kisses and soothes the old hurts. He takes his times, worships every inch of Jared’s body, and Jared goes crazy with it. He’s impatient, wants to take Jensen dry, but Jensen can’t have Jared feel any pain. This needs to be pleasure, nothing else.

He opens him up carefully, while Jared clings to his shoulders.

“Jensen…”

“What do you need?”

“I want… this is for you too.”

“It is, baby.” Jared doesn’t know how much. So Jensen leans up to kiss him and tries to show him. “It’s perfect.”

Jared kisses him wildly, hands digging into Jensen’s shoulders and riding him even harder. Jensen runs his hands up and down Jared’s back and lets the kid tire himself out. As soon as Jared has come, Jensen’s gonna put him on his back and fuck his pliant body.

Jared moans his name, and Jensen reaches down to push him over the edge. Jared throws his head back, droplets of sweat running down his neck and Jensen licks and sucks at the hot skin.

Jared shakes apart in Jensen’s arms and comes all over his hand.

Jensen waits, forces himself to slow, to let Jared come down.

Still panting, Jared rests his forehead against Jensen’s. “I want to kill my father. I didn’t think I’d have the strength, but now, with you… It feels like I could do anything.”

Jensen kisses Jared. “And you can, baby. I’ll be there with you, every step of the way.” He rolls them around and pushes in deep.

A beatific smile spreads across Jared’s face and he wraps his legs around Jensen. “Yeah come on. Want you.”

Jensen’s hips shove forward on their own account and he can’t hold back, not when Jared’s so open, so trusting, not when he’s so completely and absolutely Jensen’s. He chases his orgasm, riding the high of his success, and Jared’s there to talk him through it, to tell him how much he wants it, how much he wants Jensen. When Jared tells him he loves him with wide open eyes, Jensen comes deep inside him.

Afterward, Jensen looks at the boy peacefully sleeping in his bed. That had gone even better than expected. Jensen had planned on molding himself a weapon, instead he'd found… He wants to say toy, but that's not right. He tries to find a word for what Jared is—a pet, a follower, a servant—but each one is worse than the last. Oh well. Jensen pulls Jared closer against his chest, presses a kiss to the crown of his head, and thinks that he's doesn't need to put a label on them. Jenen never planned for _after_ the murder of his father, but he’s sure they’ll figure it out. Jared is Jensen’s now and he’s not going to give him up.

 

 


End file.
